


Sets of Ten

by marigoldmonster



Series: X [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Female Gokudera Hayato, Female Sawada Tsunayoshi, Gen, Not Beta Read, POV Outsider, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 00:23:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5687410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marigoldmonster/pseuds/marigoldmonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had always known that Sawada was strange. He just hadn't realized exactly how strange she was until his mom started making them spend time with her family and he found himself having to hold actual conversations with her.</p><p>Alternate Summary: Unnamed Upperclassman becomes sort-of-friends with Tsuna his last year at Namimori Middle and gets really confused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sets of Ten

Sawada was a strange girl. He knew that, the other students of Namimori knew that, the teachers knew that, just about everyone was aware of the fact that Sawada was not normal. Everyone, it seemed, but the girl's own mother. He couldn't fault Sawada Nana's oversight of her daughter's reputation of being abnormal as far as teen girls go in the eyes of the town. Not only was Nana obscenely optimistic, but it seemed as though Sawada was completely normal while in front of her mother. 

His own mother had somehow befriended the younger housewife after bumping into her at the market. After a month of long phone calls with endless gossip and giggling, Sawada's mother had invited his family over for dinner. 

He hadn't thought that when his mom had mentioned they were going to the Sawada household for dinner that she had meant those Sawadas, so he was more than a little surprised when the notoriously clumsy Dame-Tsuna opened the door. It was the first time he had ever seen her out of school, and as such, was the first time he'd ever seen her out of her school uniform. Who knew Dame-Tsuna had some sort of fashion sense?

His mother had made some sort of high pitched hamster squeak in delight when Sawada shyly smiled and greeted them, and he had to fight the urge to roll his eyes when his mother crowded against the young girl and ushered her into the house as if it were their own.

“You must be Tsuna,” he could hear his mother coo as he and his father trailed behind them to the kitchen, “Nana didn't tell me how pretty you are!” 

Here he did roll his eyes. The only way someone could see Sawada as pretty was if they were inclined towards small, fluffy animals that couldn't take care of themselves.

The cooing continued and only got louder when they reached Sawada's mother, where the volume increased into a painful range. He winced and glanced towards his father to see a raised eyebrow and a quirk of the lips directed towards the trio of females in the kitchen. His mother had Sawada clutched against her chest as she laughed at something Mrs. Sawada had said that must have been humiliating going on how Sawada's face was changing color.

It was unnerving for him to see his underclassman act so normal. To see her act how every other girl her age would when faced with embarrassment at the hands of a parent. He had to admit that with her big eyes and the rapidly rising blush, maybe Sawada was a pretty cute girl if one could get past the sputtering and the wild waving of her arms. 

Not that he was ever going to tell anyone that.  
__

The Monday after dinner at the Sawada household was a little strange for him. He had always been aware of Sawada in the way that all the students at Namimori were. That is, with a vague interest in her recent blunders to pick fun at about later, but now it was like he was hyper-aware of her presence. 

He noticed when she rushed into the school gates just before they closed, a sheepish expression on her face as she bowed in apology to Hibari before skittering towards the building. He watched her from the window of his classroom until she disappeared under the awning, and he thought of how strange her uniform looked on her now that he had seen her in a casual setting.

He saw her again not even two minutes later when she ran pass the open door of his class to reach her own, the late bell tolling overhead. His classmates erupted into snickers as she drew further away from them, and he found himself frowning before his seat mate jabbed an elbow into his ribs to get his attention when the class representative called for them to greet the teacher.

He didn't see her again until lunch, and by then he was so involved with his friends that she had been the furthest thing from his mind.

At least, she was until she tripped and crashed into Mochida in the middle of the cafeteria.

He watched Mochida's face redden and winced in sympathy. He highly doubted that the third year would be merciful for once and let her go with just an apology.

Sure enough, when Sawada stuttered out a barely intelligible apology, Mochida snapped at her and raised his hand in an obvious motion to strike her. A pointed cough from one of the two disciplinary members keeping watch made Mochida change his mind about starting an altercation, but a pointed sneer thrown her way with a few mean words and a push to the floor was enough to send the cafeteria into mindless titters 

He laughed, too, if a little uneasily, because this was normal. Dame-Tsuna got in the way or did something completely wrong, and they, the normal students of Namimori, laughed at her. There was nothing strange about it, and he definitely didn't feel guilty when he walked away without looking back at her red face or teary eyes. That weird feeling in his stomach was just indigestion.  
__

A few weeks after the first meeting, their families gathered for dinner at the Sawada household once again. It was just as awkward for him as the last couple of times had been, but everyone else seemed to be comfortable enough around one another already that he could get away with not really talking.

He pretended to listen to the adults' boisterous conversation as a cover for observing Sawada in what he hoped was a discreet manner. He knew it was creepy, especially after he had snapped at her during the last get together to not talk to him in public, but he was curious. His mom was always mentioning what her mom had told her earlier that day during their daily phone calls, and Sawada was brought up frequently enough that he had all sorts of useless knowledge about her floating around his head now.

_“Oh, Tsuna-chan stopped attending etiquette lessons. Apparently, her instructor went missing while hiking in the Gobi!”_

_“Oh, I just love this perfume! Tsuna-chan taught me how to say it's name; she learned Italian from a famous professor, you know!”_

_“Hm, I'm glad that you paid attention when I began teaching you how to cook. Nana says that Tsuna-chan is completely useless in the kitchen. She can't even make rice properly!”_

He really didn't know what to do with all of this information. Though he would like to know how someone who had supposedly attended charm school and was fluent in Italian could be such a dumb klutz.

Sounded like a bunch of bull if you asked him. Except maybe that last one, anyway; he could see Dame-Tsuna burning rice.  
_

He hadn't actually witnessed the event, but he certainly heard about it enough the following day that it seemed like he had. Mochida and a couple of his friends had cornered Sawada off campus after school had let out and had “messed her up a little” according to the rumor mill. The boys claimed that they didn't do anything too bad when asked about it, but he knew Mochida well enough to know that anything he had planned as revenge would probably be more than a little cruel.

Taking Sawada's bag and ruining her things in the reservoir was mean enough, but he couldn't even begin to imagine the sort of shit they had said to her. He had learned in his few talks with the girl that most things said about her didn't exactly bother her, but Mochida could be particularly vicious with his words when he wanted to be.

His worry hadn't been too bad until he noticed that Sawada hadn't shown up to school. That wasn't anything too uncommon – Sawada was a well-known repeat offender when it came to skipping class – but this was the first time since he had began talking to her that she had skipped after an incident. He was sure that situations similar to this had happened before their moms had become friends, and he spent the entire day with his guilt churning in gut as he remembered the few times he himself had been one of the people teasing her.

The minute the dismissal bell rang, he was up and out of his seat as soon as the teacher released them, making his way to the Sawada household as fast as he could in lieu of hanging around to goof off with his friends. The trek there was spent with him trying to come up with excuses for showing up when he found that his worries had been unfounded, but he never got the chance to use any of them when Sawada's mom answered the door.

“Eh? Tsu-chan?” she asked, her uniform apron still tied around her waist. “She hasn't come home from school yet. I'm surprised you didn't see her on your way here!”

He tried not to panic, and when that failed, he tried not to let the older Sawada see it on his face.

“Do you know where she hangs out after school if she doesn't come straight home? I wanted to talk to her about what she's planning on doing for mother's day,” he lied, trying not to feel too guilty when the woman giggled in delight.

“Well, I know she likes to go to the shopping district some days, but she also goes to that park in the older part of town! It all depends on her mood really,” she shared, a bright smile on her face. He smiled back uneasily, his heart dropping,

“You don't happen to mean that park on the Hibari's side of town, do you?”

At her cheery nod, he had to resist the urge to forget Sawada and just go home. Of course she did.

-

The park on the western most edge of Namimori was right outside what could be considered as the historical district of the tiny town. All that really meant to anyone who lived there was that most of the buildings were owned by the Hibari family, and if you valued your safety, you wouldn't loiter over there uninvited. Of course, there were always exceptions when it came to the strict rules imposed by one Hibari Kyoya. Children and animals were exempt from most of the punishments, though they were still reprimanded if they became too much of an annoyance. Another exemption seemed to be Sawada, and he was torn between deciding to ask why and living to see another day.

Luckily for him, most of the Disciplinary Committee were still at school as he made his way towards the park, though a few of what he guessed to be guards still eyed him up from certain buildings. He nearly broke into a sprint when he saw the edge of the tree line, desperate to get away from the stares of Hibari's grunts with the matching pompadours. 

The park's wooded area was surprisingly dense, but it was easy enough for him to follow the marked path. He just hoped that Sawada hadn't done anything stupid like wander from the trail. After roughly fifteen minutes of walking, he was about ready to call it quits and head back to town when he noticed the bright orange of one of Sawada's favored pullovers.

He sighed in relief; he had found her. She was crouched low to the ground, her back to him with her shoulders hunched forward. Her hands fiddled with something in front of her, and as he leaned to see what it was, she called out to him without turning around, damn near scaring the piss out of him.

“Ne, senpai,” Sawada's voice had a strange tone as her gaze shifted from whatever she was holding in front of her to him, and he felt himself shudder at her empty gaze.

“Have you ever fired a gun before?” She lifted her hand to show the metallic chrome glint in the sunlight, and he gulped in fear. 

“Sawada,” He started, eyes trained on the gun, and - oh, god, where did a thirteen year old even find one of those in a country where handguns were illegal-

“What are you doing with that?” He's surprised his voice came out as steady as it did because he's pretty sure he was shaking, and he's terrified to think of what a bullied girl would do with a weapon like that. 

“If it's about what Mochida did, I can guarantee you that whatever you're thinking of doing isn't worth it.”

Sawada furrowed her brows in confusion. He can see her mouth purse before her eyes widen in realization and quiet giggles begin to escape her glossed lips. He felt himself calm down some because that was definitely not the laughter of someone who was about to have an emotional break, and he forced himself to chuckle along with her. She nonchalantly waved her hand as she tried to control her laughter, and he almost pissed himself when the gun swayed towards him with the motion.

“Watch where you point that thing!” He snapped, and he'll deny it later when she says he squeaks. Sawada was laughing at him, even harder than she had been before, but the gun was pointed at the ground now so he'd let the fact that an underclassmen was teasing him slide just this once. 

Her laughter finally died down and he was left watching her thin shoulders heave with the effort of trying to regain her breath. He scowled and muttered, “It wasn't that funny.” She shot him a smile from over her shoulder before she turned her attention back to the gun in her hands.

He gulped as his eyes followed her fingers as they flip the safety switch on and off, the pale green nail polish on her fingers at odds with the gun metal. Her hands seem smaller than they already were as she idly played with the gun and he couldn't help but wonder why she was so at ease with a weapon as dangerous as that in her hands.

“You never answered my question,” her voice startled him and he flinched as he tore his eyes away from the gun to look her in the eyes. She eyed him speculatively and he felt himself flush with embarrassment. He cleared his throat and looked away from her eyes that seemed to glow orange in the sunlight.

“You never answered mine, either,” He retorted, trying in vain to keep his eyes from going back to the gun that seems almost delicate when held in her hands.

“I asked first,” He could practically hear the pout in her voice, and he rolled his eyes. She never acted like this in school, and he could hardly believe that he was talking to the same Sawada that was so infamous for her skittish and quiet nature.

“Fine, no, I've never shot a gun. Now you tell me what you're doing with that in a park of all places!” He tried not to flinch when her eyes locked with his and seemed to search for something. She must not have found what she was looking for because she frowned before turning away. He supposed he should've felt shocked to have found himself wanting in front of her - in front of Dame-Tsuna – of all people. But he couldn't bring himself to care so long as her nerve-wracking eyes weren't focused on him anymore.

Sawada shrugged in response to his question and lifted the gun again, 

“Do you want to try?” He felt his mouth dry and licked his lips while wiping his sweating palms against the thighs of his jeans. He had nodded without realizing it and began to reach for the gun. She kept it just out of reach as she stood from her crouched position.

“Then I'll teach you how, since you've never done it before, okay, senpai?” He broke out of his trance and eyed her disbelievingly. 

“You're telling me you know how to shoot it?” he asked, his voice cracking towards the end of his question. She nodded, no trace of a lie on her face. He felt lightheaded when he asked, “Where did you learn?”

She shrugged again, “My dad taught me.” 

“Why?” he choked out. 

She glanced at him before looking away, suddenly tense, and muttered, “Who knows?” under her breath. Feeling as though he had crossed some boundary he had no right to, he floundered for a moment as the atmosphere becomes tense.

“So, you were going to show me how to shoot?” He winced at how awkward he had sounded and glanced at Sawada to see her looking at him. That speculative look was in her eye again before she slowly nodded and gestured for him to follow her deeper into the trees.

They ended up further in the park than he had ever gone before, and he was surprised to see a tree riddled with holes. He looked towards Sawada to see her digging into her bag to pull out a sheaf of paper targets.

“So I'm guessing you come here often?” He asked and immediately regretted saying something so creepy. He was about to try to explain and generally make a fool of himself about how that was most definitely not what he had meant when Sawada unfolded one of the targets and pinned it to the tree. He froze, his eyes trained on the target even when Sawada came to stand next to him and began to say something. 

He interrupted her, “Why's it shaped like a human?”

He felt her jump in surprise and heard the confused sound she makes. He forced himself to meet her eyes and felt relief that they weren't the freakish orange they were before and asked again.

“Why is the target shaped like a human?” 

He watched her fidget under his gaze as she tried to think of how to respond before she finally mustered up an answer.

“They're the ones my dad has me practice with.” He was practically shaking when he asked her to explain, not really sure if he wanted to know the answer as to why this socially awkward, clumsy thirteen year old girl who didn't look like she could squish a bug without crying was told to practice shooting on human shaped targets by her father of all people.

“Just in case.” was her offhanded reply, and he tried to hide the fact that he was sort of freaking out about that. When she glanced back and forth between him and the target with a frown, he knew she was aware of his discomfort and felt heat begin to crawl up the back of his neck. 

She bit her bottom lip in thought before she walked up to the tree, plucked the target off, and brought it over to him.

“I can turn it over and draw a bull's eye on the back if you want?” she offered, and she looked so awkward and uncomfortable, looked so very much her age and how he knew she was, how she was supposed be, that he relaxed a tiny bit. 

He swallowed hard, the dryness of his mouth scratching unpleasantly and nodded. She gave him a hesitant smile before rifling through her bag. 

He turned his attention away from her to take another look at the tree. He studied its marred surface, observing how the bullet marks went from scratching the sides of the trunk to creeping in closer and closer to the center.

He could just picture a younger Sawada standing right where he was, firing a gun over and over again until she finally hit the center for the first time. He could see her smiling up to a man from whom she gets some of her features and waiting for praise. 

He couldn't explain the feeling of pity that washed over him for his small underclassman.

The strange vision was washed away when the bullet holes were covered by Sawada's back. When she moved back to show him her handy work, he was greeted to the site of a crudely drawn bull's eye made up of crooked circles. And even though he could still see the human shaped silhouette on the other side, he didn't say anything. Instead, he laughed at her poorly made target and laughed even harder when she flushed and attempted to throw her pen at him only for it to smack her in the face.

He was still curious to know why her father taught to shoot a gun and why he gave her those specific targets to practice with, but he decided that he could ask her another time. Preferably when she wasn't as tense and didn't have a gun in her hand.  
__

The next time he saw Sawada, it was at his house for a dinner their mothers had planned. He felt justifiably awkward, as this had been the first time their families had a get together at his home instead of hers. She was the first girl to ever be in his room that wasn't his mother or a cousin, and he felt a little cheated, to be honest. The fact that Dame-Tsuna was the first girl to have ever been in his room rather that a girlfriend seemed unfair. When he told her as much, her laughter made the bitter embarrassment worse.

“At least I've been the first guy in your room, too” he muttered to himself as she browsed through the books on his desk. An awkward, fake cough caught his attention, and he whirled to face her wide eyed. Two spots of color were high on her cheeks. He knew it was rude, but he couldn't help but to ask a little meanly,

“Who on earth has gone in to your room?”

Her cheeks darkened, and she glanced around his room as if looking for escape. The computer chair she was sitting on squeaked as she shifted uncomfortably. He raised an eyebrow.

“Well?”

Her hands fluttered anxiously before settling to clutch at the hem of her shirt. He felt a little bad for making her so uncomfortable. But then he remembered that she had had someone of the opposite gender in her room before he had, and she was two years younger than him! That was just weird and unfair so he narrowed his eyes a bit in her direction.

He got a choked giggle that sounded more like a squeak before she finally answered his question, 

“My fiancé .” 

He was so shocked he nearly fell of his bed. She had a fiancé ? Tiny, awkward, quiet, thirteen years old Dame-Tsuna had a fiancé ? He was positive that he had probably been staring at her with wide eyes. She must have taken it the wrong way because her blush had encompassed her entire face as she sputtered out excuses.

“Nothing happened! He's a lot older than me, so he came in, called my room childish, then left. And it's only happened once! That is, I mean, he's only come into my room once. Nothing happened, really!” When she recieved no reply besides the same startled look, she wailed, “Senpai, don't look at me like that; nothing happened!” 

He tried to give a reply, but failed as his mind tried to wrap itself around the fact the his underclassman, who was very much so underage, had a fiancé . A fiancé who was apparently a lot older than her. 

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice when the girl across from him finally quieted down until she had nudged his calf with her foot. Startled, he looked at her to see her eyeing him with the most pitiful look in her eye. 

“What?” he asked and winced when it came out a lot harsher than he had meant it to. Sawada flinched slightly before looking down at the clenched hands still curled around the hem of her shirt.

“What, Sawada?” he asked again, prodding her leg like she did to him. She bit her bottom lip before looking up at him, and he was surprised to see the beginnings of tears gathered at the corners of her eyes.

“Nothing happened,” she repeated softly, and his face twisted in confusion.

“Okay, nothing happened except the fact that you have a fiancé ? When the heck did that happen? Does your mom know?” He fired off question after question and watched as Sawada went from almost crying to embarrassed in two seconds flat.

“Yeah,” she muttered, and he couldn't help but to groan in frustration.

“That isn't exactly the answer I'm looking for, you know,” he said pointedly. She sighed and leaned back, pushing her legs to sway the chair side to side as she avoided making eye contact by observing the posters on his walls.

“Sawada,” he warned, kicking her leg. 

She whined in the back of her throat, shooting him a wounded look that he tried not to let affect him. He cleared his throat and glared at her.

"Fine," she sighed.

He grinned at his victory, “Well?”

She sullenly nodded, “I have a fiancé . It happened a really long time ago. Yes, my mom knows about it.”

He kicked her leg again, “And? You can't just stop there! Why do you have a fiancé ? How much older than you is he? When did you find out about it?”

She whined again, “You're worse than a girl!” 

“Answer, Sawada! I need to know!” was his reply with another kick, this one harder than the other two. 

She released another long, suffering sigh.

“It has to do with a business arrangement my dad made, he's a decade older than me, and my parents told me when I was ten.” He felt disgust settle over him like a cloak. 

“A business arrangement?” he asked, “ Who the hell barters away their daughter for marriage as a business arrangement to someone so much older than her in this day and age?” 

Sawada flinched again, and that time he let himself feel guilty for making her uncomfortable. He tried to soften his tone, “Are you okay with it?”

Sawada pursed her lips before she sighed, “It doesn't matter if I'm okay with it or not, it's not like I can run away.” He looked at her and noticed the way her eyes had dimmed. Her knuckles had turned white from how hard she'd been clenching them, and now the tears were back in her eyes. He heard his mother call them down for dinner and as they were both standing and heading towards the stairs, he asked one last question.

“Why can't you run away?”

Sawada looked at him, those sad brown eyes nothing like the unnerving orange they were in the woods. She answered in a voice so quiet he had had to strain himself to hear it.

“Because he'd just find me.”

After an awkward dinner with a strained silence between him and Sawada as their parents chattered on, and after she and her mother had left to head home, he pulled out and unfolded a paper full of holes with a crooked bull's eye that only had one clean shot through it's center. He turned the paper around and stareed at the hole that would have been perfectly placed between two eyes had there been any on the human silhouette. A vague feeling of dread lingered in the air as he thought back on his underclassman.

Her father had started teaching her how to shoot at ten. She found out about an arranged marriage she was to be in because of her father's business that same year. She didn't want to marry him, but thought that she couldn't run away because he'd hunt her down. She was obviously scared of her fiancé , but she was going to marry him anyway.

“What the hell is going on?” he muttered angrily to himself as he threw the target down and ran a hand through his hair.  
__

A transfer student in Namimori was a rare occasion that caused a clamor for maybe a week before the excitement would finally die down. A foreign transfer student who was equally parts pretty and intimidating was unprecedented. As such, the recent enrollment of a foreigner had kept the gossip mill going for nearly two months with an occasional rumor after the fact. Especially since the student in question had attached herself to Sawada's hip immediately after arriving. It didn't help that she also refused to give anyone else the time of day.

He found it to be a little worrying.

He knew Sawada wasn't exactly the easiest person to get along with - let alone easy to befriend with how skittish she was sometimes. One needed to have patience to get along with Sawada, and Gokudera Hayako didn't really strike him as the patient type.

He didn't think anyone noticed when he had stopped spending lunch period in the cafeteria in favor of sitting as close as he could to the two freshman.

He was wrong.

Not even three days after he had changed his routine to make sure Sawada wasn't being bullied, the transfer student cornered him in the boys' bathroom. Class was still in session, and he was pretty sure that the freshman were supposed to be in physical education right then.

“You know, if Hibari catches you skipping, it won't matter if you're a girl. He'll still beat the crap out of you,” he warned the girl's reflection as he washed his hands. She sneered from her position behind him and waited until he reached to turn the water off to grab him by the back of his uniform.

His shocked yelp was cut short when she slammed his back against the side of a stall. His head was spinning, and he was so preoccupied with the taste of blood in his mouth that he didn't hear her question. When he didn't answer, she snatched the collar of his uniform and shook him violently before asking again.

“Why are you stalking Miss Sawada?”

What?

“Stalking Miss Sawada?” he echoed, feeling more than a little confused. He hadn't thought that it was possible for a face that pretty to become so scary so quickly. The third time the transfer student manhandled him, he was less surprised and a little more prepared. Their faces were a scant few inches apart, and he could smell cigarettes beneath the same girly body spray Sawada used.

The reminder of the possibility of Sawada being bullied by this girl sent a spark of righteous anger to his gut. He smacked the hand holding him off and pushed her away from him and into the opposite wall.

“You're the one messing with Sawada!” he snapped, “If you think I'm just going to let you bully her, you've got another thing coming, Foreigner!”

The transfer student pushed herself off the wall with an indignant glower on her face.

“Bullying?” she snarled, “I'm not bullying her, you stalker! I'm making sure the rest of the students of this shitty school leave her alone! And that includes you, so quit following her!”

(He could honestly say that he hadn't been prepared for the punch to the gut she gave him, nor was he prepared for it to hurt so badly.) 

After one last day of following the two freshman to make sure the transfer student wasn't harassing his underclassman, he went back to his original schedule of eating with his friends in the cafeteria. He told himself that it had nothing to do with the glares Sawada's new guard dog gave him every time she spotted him.

__

He had never noticed it before actually interacting with her on a semi-regular basis, but Sawada seemed to be quite the delinquent. Not that most students weren't, but the majority in Namimori didn't dare to break the rules as flagrantly as Sawada and her new friend seemed to. 

Body spray, makeup, jewelry – all were against the dress code, but they seemed to get away with it easily. He had seen the Disciplinary Committee stop other girls for less, and then blatantly ignore those two when they walked by. It was a rather curious thing to consider, especially once he realized that Hibari saw Sawada in all her rule breaking glory at least three times a week when she rushed into the school yard just before the gate closed for the morning.

(Honestly, he just tried not to think on that particular relationship too much. He was confused enough as it was.)

About a week before the end of the school year, he was walking to a restaurant with a group of guys from the baseball team after their last practice for the term. Namimori Middle was nestled between residential areas, so they were walking down one of the main streets in the neighborhood when a black luxury car rolled past them. 

They, being the obnoxious teenage boys that they were, had hooted and shouted in admiration after it as it had driven steadily further down the road, but they all shut their mouths in a mix of fear and shock when it slowed to a stop not even a hundred feet in front of them.

Of course, he thought, not even truly surprised anymore, it just had to stop in front of Sawada's house, didn't it?

His friends were all nudging each other in the sides with sharp elbows and hushed whispers when one of the bastards jabbed him a bit too hard. He stumbled forward and looked up just in time to see the driver's side of the car open. He could hear his friends quiet down behind him, and he gulped nervously, suddenly hoping that whoever would step out of the car wouldn't be dangerous. Flashing images of guns, human shaped targets, and blood flew across his eyes, and his knees nearly buckled in relief when what looked to be a regular chauffeur was the one to make an appearance rather than a demon drug lord or something equally as terrifying.

The man dressed in a uniform that looked like it could cost just as much – if not more than – all of their school uniforms put together walked professionally over to the other side of the car, only sparing him and his friends a single glance of disdain. Gloved hands opened the back door of the car, and the man stepped aside to make room for a girl in a floor length dress to step out heels first.

“Holy crap,” he muttered under his breath as he took a step back and pushed into one of his friends. He could hear the shocked whispers behind him, and one of the boys was coughing so hard it sounded like he'd lose a lung. He watched in barely disguised awe as Sawada – _Sawada, for god's sake_ – stepped out of the car and straightened her dress before turning to look back into the car. He couldn't hear anything with the distance, but he could see her nod a couple times before she turned to go into the house without looking at anyone.

The car door was slammed closed the minute the front door of the Sawada household clicked shut, and the Rolls Royce was speeding away before any of them could even comprehend what exactly they had just seen.

He was determined not to say anything on the matter, so he ignored the other boys as they speculated the rest of the way to the restaurant. The conspiracy theories died down in the face of food, and most of them were content to drop it completely until a second year had brought up exactly what he had wanted to avoid.

“But that was Dame-Tsuna, right?” he had asked as they all headed back towards the residential areas, “I didn't just hallucinate her or anything, right?” He sounded a bit uncertain , and the rest of them sort of hemmed and hawed until the freaking first year had to open his mouth.

“It sure looked liked her, didn't it?” Yamamoto Takeshi laughed, “And Sawada skipped class all day again, so maybe it was!”

He resisted the urge to bash his head into a wall. Of course they had invited the only freshman on first string, and _of course_ he was in the same class as Sawada and could open the door to more speculation.

“Yeah, yeah! She could have spent all day getting ready or something, then have gone out on a date!” It was a strange thing to see a group of teenage boys titter like old women, but here he was witnessing it. And the scary part of it all was that if he hadn't been made aware of Sawada's fucked up situation via family powwows, or whatever it was they had been having, he would have been laughing and gossiping along with them.

“Only because it would take all day for her to actually look halfway decent,” another boy leered, and the statement was met with the same forced laughter that always followed Sawada and a quick jump in subjects. He sighed in relief when they all went their separate ways and desperately did not think of Sawada Tsunayoshi in her fancy dress for the rest of the night.

__

It had never actually occurred to him until he met the man, but someone who had knowingly agreed to marry his daughter off to someone dangerous enough to warrant shooting lessons couldn't have been a very good father. It happened a few days after he had seen Sawada getting out of that fancy car all dolled up that he came to the realization that Sawada Iemitsu was not only a bad father, but also a very dangerous man. Of course, he should have expected that, he thought a little hysterically as he watched his father shake hands with Sawada's. Guns, for god's sake, how could he have not made the connection sooner?

Sawada was being married off to a yakuza prince or something because her own father was a member of the yakuza! He glanced around frantically for any clue of the others in the room being aware of this, but instead he saw the adults all laughing and Sawada staring at him like he'd gone insane. Which he might have because there was absolutely no way that was possible, right? Right. He was just over-reacting because of all of the diamonds he had seen Sawada wear the other day. That were definitely not blood diamonds or anything, right? Right. He had just had a momentary lapse in sanity; everything was completely fine.

Except it really wasn't because not even half way through dinner, his mother was yelling abuse at Sawada's dad while his own dad tried to calm her down, holding onto her arms so she didn't do something dangerous like throw her plate at the man. Sawada's mom was crying while she escorted them to the door, hiccuping soft apologies for the ruined dinner, and his mother had grabbed her by the shoulders and hugged her tightly before pulling back to make eye contact.

“Nana, sweetie, you deserve so much better than that man – you and Tsuna both,” she whispered fiercely. He and his father exchanged somewhat baffled glances behind the two women that turned into wide eyed shock at his mother's next statement.

“And until you leave him, I just don't think we'll be able to continue our friendship.”

Sawada's mom pushed away from his mom and smiled weakly at them from behind her tears, “Then I guess this will be the last time we talk. I'm sorry that you don't like my husband, but Iemitsu is very important to me. Please don't speak badly of him again when you don't understand our situation.”

He had honestly never seen his own mother so upset as she puffed up in indignation and snapped a harsh, “Fine!” at the younger woman before forcing her way out of the entrance. He and his father followed her home at a more sedate pace, but they still stayed close enough behind her to catch the occasional curse word when her mutterings became louder than she had meant for them to.

That had been the last time their families had ever gotten together, and his mother had sulked for nearly an entire month before she moved on with her life. Though he had noticed that when his mother saw either Sawada or her mother in the market while they were out, she'd stare at them with a frown until they were completely out of sight before she would purse her lips and turn back to whatever it was that she had been doing.

All in all, he thought that it was a rather sad way to end what had appeared to be such a good friendship.  
__

Sawada had definitely begun to avoid him after what he had privately termed to be the Dinner from Hell. Any attempts to approach her were met with a panicked look and retreat, and he could only take being punched so many times by her guard dog before he finally backed off. He still caught sight of her on occasion but nowhere near as often as before, and he was sorry to say that he sort of missed being able to interact with his strange underclassman.

His transition from Namimori Middle to high school was quickly approaching, and he found that he was worried about what would happen to Sawada. Not that he had any place to worry about her, he thought self deprecatingly, he had never done anything to help her, and they certainly hadn't been friends. But still, he felt some sort of obligation towards the younger girl, so, after turning in his club resignation to the coach, he headed to the club room. 

Sure enough, he had found the person he was looking for changing back into his school uniform to walk home. Yamamoto had always been a staunch overachiever when it came to baseball, and he was always the last person to leave, even as a first year.

“Look at you,” he called out as he let the door slam shut behind him as to not startle the younger boy, “making your upperclassmen look bad until the very end. Just can't give us a break can you, Yamamoto?”

“Ahaha, sorry, but training stops for nothing, you know,” Yamamoto grinned. “Not even graduating third years.”

He faked an exaggerated wince “Harsh! I didn't raise you to be like this, First Year,” he scolded jokingly. Yamamoto laughed again and smacked him on the back in easy camaraderie.

“Not gunna be a first year for much longer,” he reminded as he knotted his tie loosely around his neck. “But that's not what you're here to talk about, is it?”

He eyed the underclassman speculatively before rolling his eyes, “You know, for someone so dumb, you sure are smart.” Yamamoto just shrugged and grinned that air head smile that always got him out of trouble with the coach.

“But you're right,” he continued, “I have a favor to ask you.” Yamamoto hummed noncommittally to show that he was listening as he began putting the last of the equipment he had used away.

“I need you to keep an eye on Sawada for me.” There! He had said it. It was impossible to back out now. Especially not with the curious look Yamamoto had shot him.

“I didn't know that you were friends with her,” Yamamoto prodded cautiously, straightening up to make eye contact. “In fact, I'm pretty sure that you used to tease her pretty often before this last term.” 

He winced at the reminder, but soldiered on anyway, “Yeah, I know, but some stuff happened. I've talked to her a couple times, and she's not too bad, just really awkward, and I'd feel bad if something happened to her after I graduated, you know?”

Yamamoto narrowed his eyes, and there was no way a fourteen year old should have been able to look that intimidating. Seriously, what was up with that year group? The oddly intense staring match continued for a few seconds before Yamamoto nodded slowly.

“Sure, I don't mind keeping an eye out,” he agreed. “But don't expect me to write you up any reports or anything. I barely do my own homework as it is.”

“Nah, that's fine. I'd just be more comfortable with someone looking after her,” he shrugged, feeling self conscious. “Well, that's it. See you later, I guess.”

He doesn't want to say he ran away, but he definitely got the hell out of there as fast as he could.

Graduation came and went, followed swiftly by entrance exams and ceremonies, and in all the excitement of beginning high school, it had been nearly half a year before he saw Sawada again. It was just in passing, but she was walking with her scary, foreign friend and Yamamoto. He had a brief moment of surprise at the appearance of the boy, but he quickly rolled his eyes when he noticed him casting glances at the guard dog. Of course Yamamoto would would be into girls who could probably kill him. The trio's burst of laughter jolted him from his musings on his helpless underclassman, and he couldn't help the small smile that curled his lips. 

At least Sawada didn't look so sad anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> So, the guy doesn't actually have a name, but I fondly refer to him as Senpai in my head. Also, all this story did was remind me how much I hated middle school and middle school students.


End file.
